


Not Without You

by Trendalenessa



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Begentle, Cringe, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8257073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trendalenessa/pseuds/Trendalenessa
Summary: Ahh. First time posting a fic. This is something I wrote awhile ago. It's a short and sweet, semi lore accurate fic about an implied relationship between Gwyndolin and Ornstein. Be gentle, but feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading.





	

"We're leaving, and I suggest you do the same," Gwynevere persisted.

"If I do, then what of father?"

"He's dead, Gwyndolin," she replied flatly.

Gwyndolin's face darkened as he began to struggle holding back his previously restrained tears. Seconds pass like minutes and Gwynevere eventually sighs in frustration.  
"I worry about you."

"Bullshit!" Gwyndolin yelps. "You're only trying to ease your guilt of abandoning father! And Flann thinks I'm a freak!" Gwyndolin yelps out angrily.

Gwynevere rolls her eyes. "Childishness," she observes, clearly fed up. "If you insist on confining yourself to this dead city, then I can't stop you."  
She turned, and made her way to the large, golden gate. Worry crept into her expression as she approached the exit.  
"This place is in darkness now. It's no longer the place we grew up in. Please take care of yourself, Gwyndolin." With that, she was gone.

"Princess Gwyndolin," Ornstein implored, "when will Princess Gwynevere be returning? I've had her chambers locked away for her absence."

Gwyndolin sighed and turned to face him, "Still using titles are we, Dragonslayer?"

"My apologies," he quickly retorted. "When will Princess Gwynevere be returning, Gwyndolin?"

The notion, albeit forced, brought a weak smile to Gwyndolin's pale lips. "I've not a clue," he answered. "Why're you always in your armor?"

After a short pause, a sarcastic voice repeated, "I've not a clue." He shifted to take a seat on the the staircase as he pulled his helmet off.  
His short, blonde hair fell just below his eyebrows as he stared at the ground. A furrow formed itself in his brow.  
"This city is fucking baron," he spat.

Gwyndolin was taken aback by the usually formal knight's brash honesty.  
"Don't say that, Ornstein. Father will reignite the Fire Age from within the kiln, then sister will come back," he replied unsteadily.

"It has been days, Gwyndolin. We must begin to ponder our options if he failed to fully restore the flame," he fires back with a hint of anger in his voice.

The smaller boy, having a difficult time holding back his only recently controlled tears, chokes out, "He'll do it and sister will come back home," barely above a whisper.

"Everything we've done here.. It meant nothing." Ornstein pulled his helmet back on and stood up. "I'm retiring to my quarters."  
Ornstein's footsteps faded out of earshot and reality rushed to Gwyndolin. He wasn't leaving Anor Londo. If anyone else left, so be it; but, not Ornstein.  
He couldn't live a life without Ornstein. Gwyndolin's thoughts were interrupted as he reached his room, hardly even realizing he had autopiloted there.

If Gwyn had failed to make the sun reappear, Gwyndolin would do it for him.


End file.
